I could lie
underneath
gazing up
into those blooms
all day,
listening
to all they may
have to say

And when
I say
The Magnolia,
that old dear
the one
that graces the front lawn
now, a fraction
of what it was.
having toppled
years ago,
grown now
from the shoots
of a more
Victorian era.

Every tree
has a story,
whether it be short-lived or long,
and this
The Magnolia
it has a few.

Such as
the time
Mom almost turned away,
lost in thoughts
of another’s betrayal;
and barely a year
after the death of her Mother,
and she had wasted
away
the last months
through the motions of life,
or barely.
since
he had
cracked open the foundation
of her world,
she had thought secure.

In despair,
sitting there
on those steps
of her childhood home,
and she whispered
help me
to understand
and what to do.

Late August,
it was
that day
she looked up
to the tippy-top
and finally saw

that one single bloom.

saving them,
us,
from toppling too.

{ being the realist I admit I have since learned that many plants will rebloom out of season if the conditions are right. That summer perhaps had been cool and the tree became confused and decided to rebloom, just in case. Who knows why, yet in that one miraculous act it spoke to Mom, and gave her hope }.